The Dark Lord's Demise (36 page)

Hazilon closed his eyes and enjoyed the sun's warmth. A childish voice jolted him back to awareness.

"Mommy! What's that soldier doing here?"

"Many soldiers follow the Lord Gaal, dear."

"But he's got it sword! Didn't Gaal tell us not to bring things to
fight with?"

Hazilon's eyes opened wide to a nightmare scene. A soldier with
breastplate and sword crouched by the trunk of a large tree. A
small girl stood before him and stared in wonder. Apparently the
child had discovered the soldier hiding behind the tree. Her
mother stepped forward to grab her hand. Hazilon scrambled to
his feet. "Madam, perhaps your daughter would like to join the
other children in a game on the field. I see they are playing-"

"But why's he got a sword, Mommy?"

The priest said more sharply, "Please go, madam. I shall deal
with this matter." The woman considered it moment and led her
child away. The girl looked back over her shoulder and asked
questions until she and her mother were beyond the ruined cottage.

Hazilon turned on the soldier in rage. "What folly brings you
here?"

The soldier was undaunted. "Where are the children?"

"What do you mean? Do you not see throngs of children? Oh,
no! You idiot! Surely you do not believe the tale of the abandoned
ones!"

"No, not the abandoned ones. The three. The three whom the
queen has sworn to kill."

Hazilon reeled slightly. He put his hand to his forehead. "Those
three? Were they not slain days ago?"

"No. We tried to find them, but they escaped us. An eagle told us
lies. We knew they were bound for the lodge, so we came here to
lie in wait for them."

"What do you mean, we? You are not alone?"

The soldier scoffed, "Alone? Do you think I would face those
three and their powerful magic alone? We are a whole company.
Look!"

Hazilon turned to see where the soldier pointed. He closed his
eyes but forced himself to open them again. An armed soldier had
just stepped out through the broken cottage door. Several of Gaal's
followers surrounded him and badgered him with questions.
Another soldier crept from behind the stables, only to be met by a crowd of curious children who begged to play with his sword. Far
across the field, sunlight glinted off what had to be the breastplate
of still another soldier.

In rather unpriestlike terms, Hazilon told the first soldier what
he thought of him and the situation. The priest did not wait for a
reply. He ran to the group at the cottage door, calling out, "My
friends, I see that more soldiers have joined the ranks of Gaal! We
welcome them gladly!" The priest embraced the startled soldier
and whispered fiercely in his ear, "Say nothing! Leave!"

The soldier answered full voice, "I cannot leave. I am under
orders-"

"I cancel your orders!" Hazilon turned to the curious watchers.
He made a wide, generous gesture. "These good fighting men are
new to the ways of Gaal. I must instruct them. I shall gather them to
myself, there by the edge of the forest. The rest of you will go and
watch for the arrival of our Shepherd. Surely he comes soon."

"What madness is this?" demanded the soldier when the others
had left. "We were sent to dispatch three fugitives. What is this
noisy herd you have brought? If the fugitives were here, either you
have frightened them off, or else they hide in the crowd." He
started away but turned back abruptly. "What did you mean, `watch
for the arrival of our Shepherd'?"

"Do you know nothing? These are followers of Gaal. The Dark
Lord lures them here with promises their leader will appear."

The soldier looked over the celebratory crowd. They talked,
laughed and played like people at a fair or party. "All these wait
only to see Gaal?"

"Yes. They are his fanatics. They love him-the fools!"

"They may be fools, but they are happy fools. Never have I seen
the servants of Lord Lunacy so eager to see him. They dread the
sight of his face." The soldier gave Hazilon a quick look. "And you,
priest? For what do you wait? Are you one of the fanatics?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what business have you here? Never mind. I shall not go
to any forest edge to be instructed by you."

The soldier walked away. Hazilon fumed a moment and hurried
into the mob of Gaal's followers. Everywhere he looked, armed sol diers mingled with the crowd. He heard it young man tell it soldier
near his own age, "I left my plow in the field when I heard that
Gaal would appear here. Nothing could keep me away."

"But why are you so eager to see him?" the soldier asked.

"Because he alone is our Master. Queen Hisschi claims that
Gaal and Lunacy are one. We cannot endure this lie. We worship
and serve Gaal alone."

The soldier surveyed the crowd in amazement. "I was told that
only a few such fanatics remained. I did not know there were this
many in all Anthropos!"

"We are only the ones from the area of Nephesh. Many more
will arrive from other regions. Together we shall see our Lord and
Leader. I warn you, if you do not serve him alone, you may not be
able to stand the sight."

Hazilon wanted to pull the two apart and end their conversation. But he did not know what to say. If he told the soldier not to
listen to such rubbish, the young man would say, "But aren't you
the priest of Gaal?" and the soldier would say, "Then why have you
come?" He walked on and overheard more conversations between
soldiers and worshipers of Gaal. The talk was fast spinning out of
his control. "Gaal is the Lord of Far and Near. He was killed by the
Dark Lord, Lord Lunacy, but he came back to life." "Killed by Lord
Lunacy? I thought they were allies." "Never! Stay and you will know
the truth about Gaal-and about Lunacy."

Near the cliff edge, Hazilon spotted the old man who had
limped past him. The man conversed with an armed soldier and
two young officials in (lark-blue tunics. The priest recognized those
two as underlings of the Commander-now minus their swords.
He walked forward briskly to catch their conversation, though he
was almost afraid to hear it.

One of the officials said, "Charaban, I longed to save you on
that terrible day in the hall of inquiry. I knew they arrested you
only because you love Gaal. I was afraid. Forgive me."

Charaban put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Do not
trouble yourself. Had you spoken, you would have put your own
life in peril."

"But is not Gaal worth such a risk?"

"He is. But no one wishes to die young. You might have sacrificed both your life and mine."

The bewildered soldier listened and shook his head in astonishment. "The two of you should be sworn enemies. Has this Gaal
made you into friends? This is not the Gaal of which I was taught
in the queen's service."

Charaban's eyes burned. With a quick, unexpected motion he
snatched the soldier's sword from its scabbard. The soldier, unprepared, stood in shock before the old man. Charaban held the
sword before the soldier's face. "I wielded a sword like yours for
King Kardia. His son, Tiqvah, wed a woman who led his heart
down it different path. If Gaal lets me wield a sword again, I will
use it against Queen Hisschi!"

Charaban handed the sword back to its amazed owner. The soldier stammered, "Are you not afraid I will kill you for your words?"

"I am afraid only that you will waste your life in the service of
this vile queen."

The soldier sneered at that. "Do you think I do not know her
true character? She rules by cruelty and fear. Gaal, the Gaal of
whom you speak, would rule by love and kindness." His eyes narrowed. "If you ever fight, good Charaban, I will fight alongside
you."

Hazilon wanted to cover his ears. Everywhere he listened and
looked, Gaal's fanatics were winning over the soldiers of the
queen. It was impossible! He turned to walk back to the edge of the
woods to think. Before lie could sit down, trees at the forest edge
shook and brush snapped. Another mob, dressed in rough country
clothing, burst out of the woods and ran and whooped all over the
lodge grounds. Hazilon's group hurried to welcome then. They all
mingled on the field and laughed, played and told stories of Gaal
while the priest thought wildly of what to do.

"Betty Riggs, go into the tower. Once you enter the ground floor
room, go up two floors. Wait there in the room just below the top
floor until someone summons you."

Lord Lunacy's command was sharp and cold. Betty knew no way to disobey him. She wanted to run, but how do you run away from
an island? "Wh-what's wrong, sir?" she asked.

"Go! I command you to go!" he snapped.

Betty trembled as she walked away. She would have broken into
a run except for her long skirts. She walked as fast as she could.
Unbidden, the strange words of the man in the bluish robe came
back to her: "You must walk toward me. You must walk in your
heart." Silently she cried out, I am, Gaal. I am walking toward you in
my heart. Lord Lunacy thinks I'm walking toward the tower. But do you
see me? Lunacy scares me. I'm walking toward you. The sun was low,
and the long shadow of the tower lay on the dusty courtyard like a
corpse. She stepped into the shadow. All warmth left her. How
could Gaal hear her when he wasn't even here? She opened the
heavy door to the Tower of Geburah.

She had never been inside the tower. She expected a creak or
groan as the door opened. Instead it swung on silent hinges. Betty
stepped into a large square room that smelled of oil and sawdust.
Fading sunlight poured through leaded glass windows of rich ruby
red. The windows held strange designs that she didn't take time to
try to figure out. The thick carpet was woven with intricately intertwined images of animals, vines and stars. While the design looked
ancient, the carpet itself was brilliantly colored and looked-even
smelled-brand new. Wooden bookshelves were the only other furnishings in the room. Traces of fresh sawdust lay on the shelves
and floor, but the bookshelves themselves were empty.

Up one of the side walls ran a stone stairway. Betty climbed the
stairs, careful of her awkward skirts. She had learned to handle
them well, but suddenly her skill left her. She wobbled as she
neared the top of the stairs and entered the room, which had only
a few pieces of ordinary furniture. A balcony ran along the wall. It
led to an enclosed stairway that she took on up to another room.
There she stared at the closed door. A cold shudder went through
her. The stairway led on to the top room. Somehow she felt she
would be safer up there. Safer from what? she wondered. No, she
couldn't go on up. Lunacy had told her to wait here. She pushed the
door open.

The very air of this room was crowded. It was filled with a long table, bookshelves, chairs, heavy tapestries and paintings. Betty
wanted desperately to see outside. There was only one window.
Would it look out on the lake or on the courtyard? She peered out
and saw the shadowy courtyard below. There Lunacy stood where
she had left him.

A shriek echoed in the courtyard and penetrated the room.
Three struggling figures emerged from a doorway below. Betty stifled her own scream as she recognized all three!